


The File to End All Things

by fraufi666



Series: A Gamble of Reputation [2]
Category: Political RPF - US 20th c.
Genre: Alternative Universe - FBI, American Presidents, Authority Figures, Blackmail, Homophobia, M/M, Male Slash, Mild Language, Political Campaigns, Republican, Romance, Suspense, Vietnam War, anti-Semitism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-01 20:46:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2787215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fraufi666/pseuds/fraufi666
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After discovering the affair between President Nixon and his National Security Advisor, Hoover is determined to compile a file that, if released to the press will destroy both of these men’s reputations. Not wanting to jeopardise his political career, Nixon begs Hoover to keep such documentation to himself. Hoover agrees, but at a certain price which may ultimately risk the relationship between the president and Kissinger. Will Nixon follow through with this scheme? Or will there be no way to save them from scandal?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The File to End All Things

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This story is a historical AU. Although I have used historical figures and some references based from real events, (e.g Vietnam War, Nixon's presidency) this is entirely a work of fiction. All romantic encounters, events and insinuations are from my imagination. I mean no disrespect to any of the people depicted. I am also in no way politically biased.

President Nixon woke up tiredly on the presidential jet, finding himself on Kissinger's lap. 

"God damn it, Henry! I told you about how we should keep our public displays of affection to a minimum!" He scolded angrily.

The National Security Advisor merely smirked at the angry president, knowing too well about the other man's paranoia, but also being completely unaware of what was to come. He placed a hand to Nixon's face, causing him to blush deeply. "How many more chances would we get moments like this, Mr President? Surely you can betray your paranoia for at least one moment."

Nixon sighed as a soft hand stroked his cheek "Yes, I guess you're right Henry." He was going through so many emotions to think straight. After defeating the poker expert, Le Chiffre he was far too excited to comprehend what was going on. He put a hand on Kissinger's "I…I love you so much my Jew-boy." He murmured, his face darkening in embarrassment as he said so. 

Kissinger grinned and gave him a quick kiss on the mouth, taking him completely unawares "I know." 

Yet little did Nixon know, that hiding their affections now would be much too late, for someone else had already seen their scandalous secret. 

J. Edgar Hoover had just flown back from Monaco. After such a long and tiring ride, he did not feel the need to socialise, choosing to sit in his office and start working on the file of the president*. He reached into his coat pocket to produce a Polaroid picture that he had taken only a day ago, so stealthily without even his assistant's knowledge. 

He traced a finger over Nixon's face, as he stood on the balcony, mid-kiss with Henry Kissinger. "Hmm....Nixon, Nixon, Nixon. What can we do with you?" Quickly, he stood up and took down one of the more confidential files from the top of his shelf and opened it. After rifling through the many papers inside, he took out a transcript from one of the tapes that were in Nixon's office. "What do we have here?" He asked himself, running a finger over the transcript, the part where Nixon was speaking. "I don't mind homosexuality. I understand it..." Hoover read, "...you ever see what happened to those Greeks? Homosexuality destroyed them."* Hoover laughed, clapping his hands as if he had watched a hilarious theatrical comedy "You are quite the hypocrite, aren't you, Tricky Dick?" 

 Now that he had all the evidence that proved Nixon's secret, he knew that all of the things he was saying in the White House were just lies. Already the public was beginning to voice their distrust towards Nixon, as well as their anger towards his policies, but this was just the icing on the cake. What were the people going to think when they found out that the man who made himself out to be a serious conservative was really the sort of person he put down in front of his staff? Suddenly, he felt so powerful with all of this information. Nobody else was meant to have access to these tapes until twenty years after Nixon was out of office, but after being so careful and keeping in contact with so many members of Nixon's staff he had both the side that Nixon kept exclusive to those in the White House, as well as the side that Nixon only kept between himself and his National Security Advisor. 

 After putting this file together, Hoover planned to show it to the president. With all of this dangerous information, he knew that he could get the most powerful man in the world to do whatever he wanted. And that couldn't have made him happier. Nixon was going to be so trapped, and there wasn't anything that he could do about it. 

 "Alfonso!" Hoover called out, leaning back to stretch on his chair "Bring me a glass of champagne! I have something to celebrate!"

 A tall young man came into the room, smiling at the older man "Certainly, Mr Hoover." He said graciously, resting a hand on Hoover's shoulder. 

 Hoover took hold of the hand and kissed it. "Good boy." He said approvingly.  

 

 A week later everything went on in the White House as if nothing had happened. Nixon discussed about the situation in Vietnam with his staff, but mainly called in Kissinger alone to make the final decisions. His eyes gazed over at the National Security Advisor longingly, but he knew that it was impossible to do anything while the room was tapped and the cameras on.

 "I'll see you tomorrow, Henry..." Nixon quietly, watching the other man leave the room. Kissinger turned around quickly and gave him a smile of understanding, his eyes filled with adoration. "Goodbye, Richard. And take care." 

 Now alone in the room, Nixon began to read over the papers again and all the things that were being discussed. Before he could take a couple of notes, there was a knock on the door. 

 "Come in, and make it quick." Nixon called back, thinking that it was probably Haldeman. 

 But as the door opened, a chubby man that Nixon thought he would never see again stepped in. 

 "Hello Dick." Hoover greeted with a smile. 

 Nixon was speechless. It took him a while before he could utter another word. "H-Hover. What are you doing here?" He was surprised that the man was able to come in so easily without his permission. Where was Haldeman when he needed him? 

 "Calm down Dick." The man said casually, walking up towards the desk "I just told Haldeman that you were expecting me and he let me right on through. The young man is so obedient. I like him."

 Nixon looked back at him in disgust. _Pervert._ He thought angrily. But he tried to remain calm, knowing that this man knew a lot of things about him that he could always use it against him. But sadly, there was even more that Hoover knew that he was not prepared for. 

 "What can I do for you, Hoover?" Nixon asked, keeping his voice as professional as possible. 

 Hoover sat down on the desk, startling the president. "I was just wondering...How many favours have I done for you? I'm getting old and you know how hard it is to keep track on all these sorts of things."

 Nixon raised an eyebrow, not sure where this was leading "Err...I'm sure you have been a great help to me, Hoover." He said turning back to his papers "But I need to sort out this foreign policy stuff first before-"

Hoover snatched the papers off him before he could say another word and in one magnificent gesture, threw them in the air, scattering them in a confusing mess. 

 "What have you done?!" Nixon shouted, but as the president went over to pick up his papers and reorganise them, Hoover had leaped over to the back of Nixon's desk, switching off the tape that was recording the whole incident. * 

 "Nobody will hear you." Hoover said with a smirk. "So now we can have a chat."

 "Get out of my office, now!" Nixon shouted. 

 Hoover gave a shrug "That's a damn shame. I thought you wanted to know what I was going to tell you. But since you want to be rude, well you give me no choice for what I am about to do."

 As soon as he heard those words, he knew that something was seriously wrong. "What do you mean?! Tell me!" the president demanded. 

 The man smirked and walked back towards him. "I know, Dick. I know everything." 

 Nixon gave a nervous chuckle. "Well, if you snoop around the White House and work for the FBI then I doubt that you would be left in the dark for too long. Stop messing with me." 

 Hoover came closer so that he was only inches away from Nixon's face. The president was starting to sweat in anxiety. "I know about you and your Jew-boy. And I'm surprised. From all you've been saying about the Jews, I thought you'd prefer someone better. But hey, I'm not judging. Men are indeed handsome creatures... "

 Nixon's heart was pounding frantically "You're insane." He told him firmly "There is no way you can prove that."

 "Oh? Are you sure about that?" Hoover asked. Still grinning, he took the Polaroid picture out of his coat pocket and placed it on the desk. "Now tell me, am I insane now? I have cold, hard evidence that can put your reputation to shambles." He looked at the man who had frozen in shock, perspiring in his seat. He was so vulnerable now. And that added to Hoover's excitement. 

 "H-how did you get this?" Nixon gasped. 

 "Oh and congratulations on that win in Monaco. My sources tell me that you did a splendid job." Hoover continued, ignoring Nixon's question. 

 "Is it money?! Is that what you want?" Nixon asked, shaking in his seat. He was so desperate to launch a punch at the man's face, but fear had paralysed him like a curse and all he could do was stare into the other man's eyes helplessly. So many things were going through his head. What was Hoover even doing in Monaco anyway? And why was he so hell-bent on ruining him? Nixon could not even understand how he was able to capture a photo right in that moment. He hated himself for being so careless and for a split second he was furious with Kissinger for enticing him. Yet he knew that it was his fault, more than anyone else's. And he needed as much help from Kissinger as he could get. 

 Hoover was gloating as he towered over the frightened president. "I don't give a hoot about the money." He said, leaning in close. A hand gripped onto Nixon's tie and he pulled him even closer so that all Nixon could see was the menacing glare in the older man's eyes. "I want _you_ , Dick. Only you. If I can have a single evening with you, your whole dirty secret will just remain between us and I will not breathe a single word to the public." 

 "I won't do it." Nixon gasped. The grip on his tie tightened and he was choking for air. 

 "Don't make this hard for me." Hoover sighed, his eyes not even leaving Nixon's. "You brought this on yourself. Do you not know how difficult it was for me? How you would prance around in your stupid campaigns and winning everyone's support...and make those speeches. I helped you so much and looked up to you. But then you ended up going with that disgusting Jew. You should know, that I do not take rejection lightly." 

 The president was struggling to breathe and to ignore the horrible words that were coming out of the intruder's mouth. His hands shifted frantically in the air as he tried to free himself, but Hoover was much too strong. 

 "One evening, and I will promise to keep your secret safe." Hoover said, finally relaxing his grip. He proceeded to stroke Nixon's cheek like a lover and to Nixon's relief, released him. Nixon was quick to snatch the photo and strode over to the fireplace. Without a trace of hesitation, he threw the picture in and watched as the flames hungrily devoured his dirty secret.  

 "Not so fast.." Hoover warned, the smile on his face even wider "There's more where that came from..." 

 Nixon looked back in shock. The man must have taken many more photos of the whole careless event. Before he could even demand to know where the rest of the shots were, Hoover walked to the door and turned around to give a sly look at the president. 

 "Remember, Dick. I'm only asking for one evening. Choose wisely." And with that, he was gone. 

 A wave of nausea came over Nixon as he huddled in his chair in fright. He had felt so exposed and sick from being so easily intimidated by someone who was on a much lower ranking than he was. He did not know whether to laugh or cry. It was as if that whole encounter with Hoover was something from a nightmare, rather than from reality. He felt his stomach do back flips and tried to stand, clutching onto his chair weakly. 

 

 It was only on the next day that Nixon had mustered the courage to tell Kissinger of the whole situation that was going on the day before. He couldn't stay quiet about it for long and the stress of Hoover's proposal had made the poor president agitated and even more paranoid than usual. 

 Kissinger sat patiently in the Oval Office with him; thinking about what Nixon could do next. "Are you sure you can't use the recording from yesterday as evidence of blackmail?"

 "He turned off the damn thing!" Nixon cried "And then he practically forced himself onto me. That freak." He threw his hands in the air hopelessly. "I have no idea what I can do. He probably took a billion of photos of us together for his own sick purposes. The man is dangerous, and if this gets out to the press...Jesus Christ." He was so anxious he had to slow down and focus on taking a few deep breaths. 

 Kissinger put a hand on his arm, trying to calm him. "There has to be a way out of this. Perhaps you can offer him money?"

 "He doesn't want money!" Nixon shouted "He wants to...you know…do hanky-panky. Geez. What does he think he is?" His cheeks had turned bright red as he said this and Kissinger had to bite his tongue to stop himself from chuckling at his embarrassed reaction when talking about it. 

 "Well then, the answer is simple." Kissinger responded coolly. He leaned closer, looking deep into his eyes, although there was a trace of sadness behind those thick glasses "You have to obey his command."

 Nixon jolted up from his seat "Henry, are you mad?! I can't do that." 

 The National Security Advisor stood up and moved towards him, his hands on his shoulders. "I know it won't be easy. But I will understand. I know your feelings for me. And it is only one evening. These are our reputations that we are talking about here."

 Nixon wouldn't hear of it. "There is no way I am going to let a fag like Hoover screw me. I need to get a hold of those pictures and destroy each and every one of them. And I bet there is a file he is making of us right as we speak. I want to burn that too." 

 "This is illegal." Kissinger said in alarm. "We can't just break into an FBI director's office and take property that isn't ours."

 The older man thought for a bit at what Kissinger was saying, but found no other alternative. "Well, he shouldn't have been snooping around on us in the first place. This is black mail, and he will ruin us both if we don't take action. Besides, if the president does it, it does not mean it is illegal*." 

 Kissinger shrugged. "It sounds like a very dangerous thing to do. I don't want you to risk your presidency for a file and some photographs." He sat back down in his seat, thinking furiously for a solution. "Why don't you distract him, while I break into his office?"

 "We are just playing with fire here." Nixon grumbled. He shuffled his papers, no longer in the mood to do any serious work. "But I can't let him get away with this. It will ruin our lives." With horror he thought about his family "...Oh god. Pat and the girls would be so distraught if this gets leaked. We need to find our way inside that place. And fast. I don't want to lead him on in case he gets the wrong idea."

There was a small smile on the other man's face, "But Richard..you are the master of deception." He said encouragingly. How many times have you been able to say things so convincingly without giving away the real facts? If you can convince all of the American people that we have won the war, peace with honour, then surely you can trick Hoover into thinking that you will follow through with the deal."

 Hearing Kissinger's words brought some reassurance to him, yet it was still unnerving to pretend to like a man that he strongly despised and feared. 

 "I just...I don't know if I can do it." Nixon said miserably. 

 Kissinger stared into his eyes directly, his gaze warm. "I know you can. And you will. Please, do not worry Mr President. There will be a way out of this and everything will eventually sort itself out." 

 Nixon felt his heart flutter and he smiled, feeling so much safer. Yet there was still so much confusion. It pained him that he could not embrace the man, for he was so desperate for some physical reassurance, and something to take his mind off the current situation. 

 As if Kissinger had read his thoughts, he briefly put his arm around him and stepped back before anyone could see them. 

 "See you tomorrow, Mr President..." Kissinger responded and then he was out of the room.

 Alone and feeling smaller than usual, Nixon decided to leave the Oval Office to clear his head. He walked through the corridors, occasionally trying to greet his staff happily as if there was nothing going on. The last thing he needed was to make everyone else suspicious. But when he had walked out towards the receptionist desk, he froze. 

 Hoover stood there, talking cheerily with the receptionist. He felt his blood boil. _How could he just stand there and act like he owns the place?!_

The older man did not seem to notice the anger that was filled in the man's face. Or perhaps he did, but enjoyed seeing it. Nixon had done a good job trying to hide his emotions until Hoover had shown up. 

 "Why hello, Mr President. There is a very, very important file that I must discuss with you." Hoover greeted jovially.

 "As you know, I have been very busy." Nixon said crossly. "And will you please make an appointment with me first before coming in unannounced."

 "But Mr President..." The secretary interrupted "You did arrange an appointment to see Hoover this afternoon." Nixon's eyes widened as she showed him the book with all of the times listed and sure enough Hoover was scrawled into the margin for today's date. 

 He fumed. It was one thing to spy and take pictures of the president without his permission, but it was another to write down appointments that were never arranged. They were all working against him. The secretary was probably conspiring with Hoover behind his back.

 "Alright…" Nixon sighed, deciding to try and negotiate the situation with him "Come into my office and we will talk about the file."

 Hoover grinned and then to his surprise backed away. "Actually something just came up." He said with a sly grin "Besides, I thought you were busy…" With that, he walked out of the room, leaving Nixon's mouth agape with shock, as if the other man had slapped him. 

 

 A few days later, Nixon did not see or hear anything from Hoover. But as Kissinger worked beside him, he knew that the man's mind was not free from the FBI director. His eyes were darker than usual and lines of worry stood out in his forehead in the half-light. It was clear that he did not have enough sleep. 

 "Mr President…you need to stop worrying." Kissinger said, putting a hand on his arm. "If he does not want to waste his time with you negotiating, he has probably burned the pictures already."

 "No.." Nixon said, a fist to his chin in concentration "He wouldn't give up that easily. He's too smart. The guy has something planned, I know it." 

 Kissinger squeezed his arm in comfort, his face close to the president "You don't need to lose sleep over it. That is only what he wants from you. He wants to get you in the most vulnerable state so that you will no longer be able to do your job. Please, Mr President...let me handle it."  

 Nixon wanted to protest. The last thing he wanted was his closest advisor taking matters into his own hands. But at the same time, he needed help so desperately and could not find a way out of it.

 "I will help you..I promise you, Mr President." Kissinger said softly. 

 "But how?!" Nixon cried "How can you? You don't have access to the things he does. What can you do?" 

 Kissinger gave a small smile. "Do you still have trust in my abilities, Mr President?"

 "Y-yes…of course I do Henry."

 "So it's settled. Now go and get some rest. You've had a long day." 

 Unfortunately Nixon was unable to take his National Security Advisor's advice, for when he did arrive back to his quarters, Pat was clinging onto him, overjoyed that he had returned for the day.

 "Dick! The girls have come home for the break from college. We must go out on a holiday to celebrate."

 Nixon tried to pull away from her, but the woman latched onto him "No Pat. I am much too busy." 

 "Why? What's wrong?" Pat's eyes were filled with concern and seeing her like this tempted him to just pour out his heart to her and confess everything; the affair with Kissinger and the blackmailing of Hoover. But he knew that it was only going to make matters worse. This was not something that he wanted the family to be involved in, for they were innocent in all of this. 

 "I'm just tired…"

 "But that's just it, Dick. A holiday is just what you need. Why don't we just go out together as a family and have a good time. We can go sailing and spend time in our holiday house."

 There was no point in arguing with this woman. Once her mind was made up, that was it. Nixon knew that by giving another explanation would only cause her to ask more questions. Not wanting to make her more suspicious, he decided to give in. Perhaps some time away could free his mind from the torture of Hoover. 

 "I don't know what's gotten into me." Nixon said grumpily, planting a kiss on Pat's lips. "I must just be too stressed." 

 "Is it Henry Kissinger?"

Upon hearing the name, he froze, startled as to how she might have found out. Pat giggled, pulling her husband into an embrace "I was just wondering, since you've been spending so much time with him, if he's been giving you too much work." She responded, pulling apart the paranoid thought he had a moment ago. 

"Oh! Henry? Yes. He has been giving me a lot of work about foreign policy." Nixon said, relieved that she did not know his secret. 

"This is why we need to spend some time away from the White House." Pat explained. 

The day after, Nixon was in California with Pat and his daughters. With the sun high in the blue sky and laughter filling the air it seemed to be the perfect holiday. But Nixon sat on a chair under the shade of a palm tree, his mind still in dark worry of Hoover's scheme. 

"Daddy! Come and play with us!" Tricia cried out, throwing the beach ball at him.  Nixon jolted as the plastic ball landed in his lap suddenly and he threw it back, laughing as he tried to hide the worries in his mind. Perhaps if Kissinger were with him he would not feel so concerned. After all, the man was all alone in Washington without him. He felt his heart pound in fear as the possibility of the younger man being in danger came to mind. What if Kissinger had tried to confront Hoover alone? 

He pushed the thoughts aside and tried to play along with his daughters. Then, as evening approached, they headed back to the car towards their holiday house. 

"Can we get McDonalds?" Julie asked.

"It's much too late girls. Let's just have a nice home cooked meal." Nixon said, dreading the prospect of going out in public. He made a quick head check to see if there were any cars that were following his own as he started the ignition. 

"Come on, Dick. Let's go treat ourselves." Pat insisted as she buckled her seatbelt. 

Nixon sighed and then began to drive. "Fine. Just as long as we make it quick." 

The girls cheered and Pat smiled, happy that she was able to convince the most stubborn yet powerful man in the world. 

Once they had stopped in the drive through, Nixon began to study the menu. But as he did so, he noticed a face staring back at him in the reflection. It was a chubby face with the recognisable sneer that left him with so many restless nights recently. He felt his heart skip a beat and quickly checked the side mirror to see if Hoover was standing behind him. 

Yet there was nobody there.

"Come on dad, we're hungry." 

Nixon snapped out of his thoughts, thinking that he was just imagining things. "Sorry girls." He said with a grin, "Alright, let's go order!" 

After they had received their food and drinks, Nixon started to drive out. But as he did so, a figure stood at the window, chewing messily on a hamburger. 

_Oh no._

Even though it was a fair distance away, Nixon could see that the figure in a Hawaiian shirt was the very man that he was trying to escape. Hoover took hold of the icecream cone and started licking it slowly, his eyes direct on the startled president. That same nauseous feeling from their first encounter in the Oval Office had returned, only it was much stronger. He swallowed, trying to avoid thinking about him. It made him feel physically sick, just seeing him behave in such a lecherous manner. 

His foot hit the accelerator and the Nixon family car sped out of the drive through, startling all of the passengers. 

"What is going on?!" Pat cried as they drove "What is the hurry?!"

"I don't want to get caught up in the traffic." Nixon said quickly, knowing that it was a terrible excuse. Pat did not look convinced at all, but she remained silent as they drove up to their holiday house. 

That night Nixon lay, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. He got up and walked into the kitchen, splashing water on his face in order to calm himself. But as he did so, the phone rang. 

He stood in hesitation, unsure as to whether he should pick up the phone or not. There was a possibility that it was Hoover ringing to finally negotiate with him or to threaten him and one part of him wanted to turn around and go back to bed as if he had not heard the phone. But if he had chosen to leave it, Pat might have picked it up instead…and then the whole secret would be out.

His hand shook the headset as he picked it up and held it to his ear. "H-Hover, you leave my family out of this-" he began forcefully, getting to the point. 

"Richard, it's only me."

Nixon's heart pace slowed down, and he felt relieved to hear the calm voice of Kissinger. "Henry…oh god I'm sorry. I thought you were him. What can I do for you?"

"It's just that, I've figured out where the office is." Kissinger said calmly. 

"Christ Henry! We shouldn't be having this sort of conversation on the phone. Someone could trace it."

"It's okay, I'm out using a public phone box." The National Security Advisor explained, "Nothing we are saying will be recorded. But Mr President, I have to warn you. Hoover is getting very suspicious. He has been walking around the White House and chatting to people. I...I don't want to stop you from your holiday, but I'm afraid that he'll start spreading rumours if-"

"We're leaving, first thing tomorrow!" Nixon responded quickly "I must return back to Washington before that lunatic does anything stupid."

His mind was already made up. Before the Nixon family could ask why they had to return, they were already on the plane heading back to the White House. Thinking that it was work-related, Pat seemed understanding, but the daughters looked annoyed at the fact that their holiday was cut so short. On the plane ride, Nixon's fists remained clenched and his eyes wide and alert as he kept watch to make sure that Hoover was not on the plane with them, even though it was impossible for the man to be in two places at once. He could not rid his mind of him, and it made him feel so helpless and worried. He had to make sure that he could put an end to this, once and for all, although at the same time he was not looking forward to going along with his scheme to stall him. 

 

Back in the White House, as if by clockwork Hoover was sitting in a chair, waiting patiently for him.

"Hoover. I'm here now. What do you want? I will get you whatever you want if it means that you will leave me alone."

Hoover laughed, "Aw, are you saying that you couldn't stop thinking about me?" He leaned in; much to Nixon's disgust "To be honest, I couldn't stop thinking about you either. It's torture, isn't it? Thinking so much about someone and not being able to do anything about it. At least now you know how I feel…" He laughed, and leaned back, putting his feet disrespectfully on the table. "So you thought about my request? I'm glad. That was _exactly_ what I wanted…" 

There was a silence between the two and Nixon was feeling more and more uncomfortably as the minutes ticked by. He hated the way the other man seemed to twist his words to his own advantage and even the thought that he was going to go along with his plan, let alone pretend to be interested. 

"Meet me in room 72 in 40 minutes." Hoover whispered, slipping a card of the address details on it into Nixon's pocket. "And remember, if you don't follow what we planned, you can be sure that your relationship with your advisor will be on all of the front pages." A hand slid over his pocket, giving him a pat and making him tremble. Hoover stared at him for a long time before finally leaving the room. 

Nixon sighed as he sat down at his desk. But he knew that there was not a lot of time left before he had to meet with Hoover. Quickly, he rung up Kissinger's office, hoping that he would have some clue that could help him trace the file before he had to make this dreaded meeting.

"Come on, Jew-boy...pick up the phone." Nixon pleaded under his breath. 

There was no reply. 

Meanwhile, Kissinger had arrived at the FBI headquarters. A security guard sitting at a desk looked at him with an inquiring gaze. 

"What is the nature of your emergency?" The guard asked.

His heart was in his throat as he stood awkwardly. He had not planned this through very well, but if he did not get into Hoover's office now, he never will. 

"Good evening." Kissinger said politely, mustering the most professional tone possible. "I have some paperwork that I need to collect for a colleague who works here. He wanted to bring me a file as soon as possible to work on, but forgot." 

The guard narrowed his eyes, unconvinced by his excuse. "Who is this colleague?"

Kissinger thought quickly. In a job like this, it was natural for these sorts of people to be suspicious of everyone. It was time to adapt to their way of thinking. 

"J. Edgar Hoover." Kissinger replied smoothly "I am the president's closest advisor and Hoover had some very important documents for the president's eyes only. My visit is in the strictest confidence."

The guard's eyes widened. "You work with the president?!" He said in shock "Geez. Well come on in!" 

The man took out a ring of keys from the desk and handed them to Kissinger. "I'm sure you know your way around his office better than we do. Hoover's real fussy about who can look at his files. He doesn't even let me in, so it must be an important matter-"

"It is, now will you excuse me? Thank you." Kissinger took the keys, and not wasting too much time, proceeded to leave the room. 

Once he had found the office, he began to check all of the shelves. Like the guard said, it was hard to know which way to look. There were many folders and what did not help was that not all of them were in alphabetical order, or had letters written on them. Realising that he was probably not going to get anywhere looking through each folder, he decided to check the filing cabinets. He was quick to spot the section titled Nixon, Richard M. but when he opened the folder, there was no file inside. 

Kissinger scratched his head in confusion. Perhaps the file was still being constructed. He turned towards the desk, yet in comparison to the shelves it was completely empty. Later on, it dawned on him. Hoover most likely suspected that someone was bound to search for the file, which meant that he had probably placed it in a difficult location. He scanned the room, and seeing that there were some untouched files at the top of the cupboards, grabbed a chair and climbed up on it. As he did so, he heard footsteps approaching. Urgently, he checked the top shelf. But with his nerves, his hand bumped against the folders, causing them to fall off the shelf. It was all so quick and as the files fell onto the floor, he wobbled on the swivel chair and fell, his glasses falling off his head and landing meters away from him.

Fortunately, he was not hurt. Kissinger felt around for his glasses, now even more desperate that someone was going to discover what his real intentions were. He assumed that the security guard had became suspicious and rang Hoover, so he had to make haste and find the file to end all things. 

His hand touched the edge of his spectacles and sighing in relief, he put them back on. Kissinger could see much clearer now. But what he noticed was perhaps even more wonderful than the file. 

Sticking just out of one of the drawers was a long, silky garment, the sort of garment that a woman would wear. But why did Hoover have this in his possession? Was he a pervert, or was this for other means? His lips curled into a smile. This was evidence that proved that even the shiftiest FBI director had his own secrets. 

Kissinger hastily pulled out the pantyhose from the drawer and continued to look for the file. The footsteps were getting closer and he could hear voices. Quickly! Kissinger felt his hands sweat as he tried to put everything back in its place and after much rummaging through the remaining files on the floor, opened up the file at the very bottom of the pile. Several Polaroid photos fell as he did this. To his delight, he noticed that these were all himself and Nixon on the balcony. Normally the sight of such secretive photos would have alarmed him, but he couldn't have been happier.

There was now a way out of this.

"Hey! I know you're in there!" Someone called out from in front of the door. Kissinger tucked the file into his coat, as well as the pantyhose. It was the guard. And he did not sound too pleased. At the last minute, Kissinger crawled into one of the filing cabinets as the door started to open.

He felt like a fool hiding in such a place. He was not a child, and this seemed like some crazy game of hide and seek. 

Against his expectations, there were two men in the room. "Are you sure he went through here?" Another voice asked, possibly belong to another guard.

"Yes!" insisted the first guard. "I rang Hoover and he told me to stop this man. He did not say why, but he told me not to let anyone near his files." 

A flashlight shone over the shelves and desk before then moving towards the filing cabinet. Kissinger's eyes hurt as the light shone directly on him and he soon realised that he was going to be caught. What was he going to do? He could hear his heartbeat in his ears as he crouched inside the cabinet, already trying to think of an excuse of why he was in there without telling them the full truth. The thought of failing the man who he had promised to save was too difficult to bear. He could not get caught now. 

But as if it were a strange turn of fate, the light went off. 

"Nobody has been in here, you idiot." The second guard said angrily. "You've wasted my time for nothing. Look, all the files are still in their place." 

"But-"

"No buts!" The guard said angrily "I should just ban you from doing night duty. Good god. Are you high again?"

"I only-"

"Go home, Chuck. If I find out that you're taking drugs again I will call the boss to fire you." The second guard warned.

Finally the two guards had left. Kissinger was able to climb out of the cabinet. He rubbed his back, which was aching so much from sitting in an uncomfortable position for a while. 

Nixon was shaking as he opened the door to the hotel. Hoover sat there in a couch, wearing a satin dressing gown. He shuddered, hoping that it wasn't the only thing that he was wearing.

"Dick..." Hoover beckoned him with a smile "You came. Come and sit down." 

He walked slowly towards Hoover sweat dripping from his brow. 

 _Henry damn it! Where are you?! I don't want to do this!_ Nixon screamed inwardly. 

"You should know how to do this. There's nothing to be afraid of." Hoover said, watching the man take slow steps "Don't worry...I'll go gentle on you." 

"I just want you to keep those pictures to yourself…" Nixon said, struggling to keep a confident tone. He stood in front of him, refusing to sit down next to that disgusting man.

"Sit, sit!" Hoover urged, taking his hand and pulling him roughly into the couch. Nixon gingerly moved to the edge, but Hoover was able to wrap an arm around his shoulder and scoot closer. A strong scent of aftershave tinged with expensive perfume hung in the air. It was practically suffocating. A fat finger ran against Nixon's jaw line. 

"I can't believe that I'm touching the president..." Hoover gasped in delight "You are so handsome Dick...look at you." He began to take Nixon's coat off, against his consent. "You don't need to wear that anymore, my dear." 

Nixon felt so exposed without his coat. He only really took it off around his family or Kissinger. Now he was even more vulnerable. 

"Umm...Hoover. I think we should have a drink first." Nixon said quickly, hoping to stop this man from taking anymore clothing off him "I could really do with a brandy."

Hoover grinned, knowing that alcohol was the best way to soften the president and easily manipulate him. He stood, the hem of his dressing gown up. To Nixon's relief he was wearing shorts underneath. 

"On the rocks?" Hoover suggested.

"Yes please. Get me the strongest you have." He insisted. 

 

The older man walked over to the bar and started to prepare the drinks. Nixon kept his eyes on him, making sure that he wasn't adding in any pills that were going to make him sleep. Hoover turned back with the glasses and gave Nixon his drink. 

Nixon studied the liquid substance. 

"I didn't add anything in." Hoover said, as if reading his thoughts. But Nixon did not trust him. "I prefer my men when they are awake and receptive." 

The president felt his stomach shift in response to those words. Every instinct in him told him to run and leave this room forever. The last thing he wanted was to end up in bed with the man he detested so greatly. But he knew that things would only be more difficult if he defied him. The only thing he could do now was to stall. 

"Wait, we can't do anything yet." Nixon said, "I still need to go over our agreement." 

There was a slight frown on Hoover's forehead "What else is there to discuss? You agreed to spend an evening with me...there's no other way out." Seeing that Nixon had not even touched his drink, Hoover started to drink from his own glass. 

"Go on, taste it on my lips. It's not so bad." Hoover offered, moving closer. 

_No..._

The old lips were moist from the brandy and were pursed. The sight was enough to make Nixon gag. The only lips he wanted to kiss were Kissinger's and he was not going to go along with this anymore. He was never going to go along with this. 

_I can't do it._

 "Get away from me!" Nixon shouted, slamming a hand against the man's head. Hoover fell down on the couch but was quick to recover. Nixon tried to run towards the door, but Hoover grabbed the back of his neck and held him. 

"You betrayed me..." a voice whispered icily. Hoover's voice was practically unrecongisable. There was so much hate and evil laced in there. Nixon was struggling against his grip. Even death was better than this. 

"I won't do it!" Nixon spat "Now let me go!" 

Hoover smirked "Then I will ruin your career! You did not keep your part of the deal, so neither will I!" Just as he was about to do what would be serious damage to the president, the door opened.

"Actually, we can ruin yours." A voice said. 

_Kissinger..._

Nixon was so overjoyed to see his lover standing there in the doorway. But he was scared that Hoover was about to do something to him. "Get away from him, he's crazy!" Nixon shouted out to him. 

"I'm not leaving without you." Kissinger said firmly. His eyes stared into Nixon's and even though he was still in Hoover's clutches, he was beginning to feel a lot safer. At that, Kissinger took out the file from his coat as well as the pantyhose that he found in his cupboard. 

Hoover was enraged. "HOW DID YOU GET THOSE THINGS?!" He demanded. "I rang security on you!"

Kissinger smirked "Yes, you did. But you were too late. Now I have a deal for you. Let go of Nixon and we won't discuss this matter again. Or I will share everyone else _your_ secret." He walked towards Hoover bravely "Do you care to deny that these aren't yours? Or do you like to see other men wear these?" 

Hoover's face turned white in horror. "You...you can't do that! I have all of the pictures!"

"Not anymore…" Kissinger said, holding up the file. "They are all in here. You are not very good at hiding things. So I ask, how important is your reputation to you?" 

For the first time, Nixon saw the older man sweat. Hoover looked so trapped and no longer as intimidating. His eyes darted backwards and forwards as if an animal cornered by its predator. 

"Alright!" He said finally, releasing Nixon from his grip "You go, get out of here. Just give me back the pictures!" 

"I don't think so." Kissinger said, and before Hoover could stop him, walked over to the fireplace and threw the whole file, pictures and all, into the flames. The file to end things was reduced to nothing but ashes. Never would anyone read those incriminating words that were written inside, or see the pictures. Hoover stood there hopelessly, until Kissinger threw the pantyhose over to him.

"Now that is done, we will keep your secret too." He said calmly. "Now don't ever bother me or the president ever again or I will find more information." 

Hoover gulped and watched as Nixon and Kissinger left the room. His whole scheme was ruined. He hated Kissinger even more now that he had found his own weakness, but alas there was nothing he could do about it. From then on, he decided to stay well away from the president...at least, away from any area involving the affair with his National Security Advisor. As far as he was concerned, it never happened. 

 

Back in the White House, Nixon collapsed onto the chair in relief. He felt more in love with the brave and intelligent man who had saved him. But in all his excitement after their triumph, he was struggling to find the words.

"Henry...I can't thank you enough."

Kissinger smiled. "I couldn't have stood by and let you suffer because of another man's crazy obsession." He took out a handkerchief and wiped away the sweat from Nixon's brow. The president sighed, so appreciative of Kissinger's caress. It filled him with so much happiness and love, a pleasant change from Hoover’s sickening advances.

"I love you Henry.." Nixon murmured. 

"And I love you too, Richard. I will always do everything in my power to prevent you from being in danger, even if you are the president."

As he said this, Nixon scowled "You didn't have to go and risk your life to help me. I should be the one protecting you."

But Kissinger silenced him with a kiss. "I don't mind. But you do have to repay me another way." He chuckled. The blue pools gazed at him hungrily and Nixon realised what the other man had meant. 

"W-we can't do that here. The place is tapped, remember?" Nixon stammered in paranoia.

Kissinger grinned. "We can always turn off the recorder. At least for tonight." He suggested, running a hand up Nixon's thigh.

"You're brilliant, my Jew-boy! I can't believe that I didn't think of that." Nixon cried. Without wasting another second, he reached into his desk and switched off the tape recorder. As he did this, Kissinger's hand rested on his and slowly the two of them found their lips in the darkening room. Feeling more excited and confident than ever before, Nixon pulled the other man towards him, tugging his thick, wavy hair as they kissed feverishly.

"Mein Schatz..." Kissinger whispered between kisses, impressed by Nixon's arousing strength. "Das fühlt sich so gut..." Even though Nixon would never admit it out loud, he adored hearing the other man speak in his mother tongue. 

Like nervous schoolboys exploring each other's bodies for the first time, their hands ran over each other blindly until Nixon removed all of his clothes to lie down on the desk, the moonlight illuminating his pale body. Kissinger followed suit, climbing on top of him and caressing him gently before they were both lost in such scandalous passion. But there was nobody around to watch them. It was as if it were just the two of them in the whole world, two powerful men who were indestructible, like their love for each other. 

By the time the dusk was starting to turn to dawn, the two quickly got dressed and went their separate ways. But as soon as another workday began, Nixon and Kissinger shared secret smiles between themselves while sitting in the Oval Office and talking about foreign affairs. 

 

It was a secret that was forever going to remain one. 

**Author's Note:**

> Translation key: 
> 
> Mein Schatz: My precious
> 
> Das fühlt sich so gut: That feels so good 
> 
>    
> *Footnotes for historical explanations: 
> 
> J. Edgar Hoover: This was a real figure in history who was the first director of the FBI. He was known for keeping files on almost every president, and in turn was feared by those working in the White House. There were also rumours that he may have been a homosexual. 
> 
> "...you ever see what happened to those Greeks? Homosexuality destroyed them”: This quote was actually from a recording when Nixon was expressing his worry about the idea of homosexuality being glamourised on television and how this could contribute to the idea of an Ancient Rome/Greece where most people were openly homosexual, yet were in a society with so much violence and discord. In these fictional stories however, this quote is only something he says to his staff, while hiding his own homosexual affair with Kissinger. 
> 
> “…Besides, if the president does it, it does not mean it is illegal.”: This statement is a reference to a quote that Nixon said during an interview with David Frost. 
> 
> “…switching off the tape that was recording the whole incident.”: President Nixon had a habit of recording every conversation that had went on in the White House and was able to make sure that many of these tapes were never released


End file.
